


Eyes Closed

by totorocat1347



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 18:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14754056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totorocat1347/pseuds/totorocat1347
Summary: Try to write your life’s story with your eyes closed. I don’t think it’s possible. You need your eyes wide open to lead you through the world. Even if you lose your sight, keep them open, just so you don’t forget they are there. No one who shut their eyes to keep the tears from falling ever built a universe from nothing.I need my eyes to build a universe and keep writing my story.





	Eyes Closed

**Author's Note:**

> Original work. I wrote this for a school assignment, but I am likely going to continue it. Please keep in mind that this is not finished; I'm not even sure if there are chapters. I just want to get feedback on what I have, so please tell me what you think.  
> (I have never posted on Ao3 before, so I don't know how the formatting will work. Please bear with me.)

***

Rage had fuelled me to do so many things. Anger, spite, and sadness consumed my brain for so long. I yearned to take revenge on the people who took what I cared about. I didn’t know who those people were, but I wanted to kill them. 

After the rage subsided, I felt the pain. I felt regret. I felt like I had never really known him enough to love him like I thought I would. He was just another mysterious figure in a life filled with mystery and pain. That was all it was. 

***

My father was a man of habit. He lived his life as a farmer, working hard on the land that was his father’s before him. He sold his pigs at the market every week, then gambled or drank away whatever money he had left over. 

Often he bet more than he had. Sometimes he was left in debt to others, though he always paid it back. That was, until he bet against the great Lord Brazos, and had nothing left to pay.   
Brazos was a great man, well known, and well respected by the people in our area of the kingdom. He was hardly a nobleman, but he had power over others. And, people who owed him would pay their dues in any ways necessary.

When my father was called to the house of Brazos to negotiate, he brought me with him. He must have hoped that the Lord would spare him for the sake of his family. We were lead into the great fortress where a servant left us in a large, dimly lit room. The walls were of a gray and ruddy stone, and the cold seemed to seep through the uneven cobbled floor. The ceiling was glass, but very little light reached the inside of the chambers. Lord Brazos himself sat in a wide, sturdy chair.

“Your son looks strong and able,” said Lord Brazos.

“That he is, my Lord. He works on the farm with me.” My father bowed his head before the short bearded man.

“What is your name, boy?”

“William, sir,” I responded.

“And how old are you now?”

“Thirteen, sir.”

Lord Brazos turned again to my father. “You are a pig farmer, yes? How can you ever hope for your son to be a man, if all you have is pigs?”

“Your lordship…?” father stuttered.

“William,” he commanded. “Do you wish to spend the rest of your life as a penniless, grovelling pig farmer?”

“No, sir.” I paused. “I want to be a part of something greater, sir.”

“That’s a good answer.” He said to my father. “Leave him to me. I am in need of a servant, perhaps under my guidance he will grow to be something useful.”

And just like that my father was dismissed. He was promised safety for his loyalty and devotion to the House of Brazos, and his dues were paid. I never saw my family after that. I wasn’t sure whether to be glad I would not be a pig farmer, or to be utterly terrified of being bartered off to a strange and ruthless rogue leader.

***

As a page to Lord Brazos, I was treated well. He seemed to consider me more of an apprentice than a servant, and indeed I learned more than I would have on the farm. It did not seem to bother him that I knew so little of reading or writing. I progressed easily in both, and after only a few months I was able to read simple lists and names which he gave me. I carried stacks of papers to wherever he willed. When I was finished, he would give me sweet bread. I got more to eat than many soldiers in the fortress, and in helping him, I even got to taste the coveted delicacies which he did not want. 

Lord Brazos was not a nobleman. He had no connection to the king or government of the country. He was, however, in control of a large region of the kingdom where he was respected by the people. He offered protection in exchange for loyalty, as the other eight houses did in their sectors. In my new job, I learned much about the houses, their rivalries, disputes, and darker secrets.

I had understood my father’s fear of Lord Brazos when he was left in debt, but I had never known how dangerous the man was. I knew of all the secret wars and conflicts in the kingdom, wherein the eight states fought ruthlessly and dishonourably. I saw men led into dark rooms and never return, and I heard tales of their grim fates.

Sometimes Lord Brazos handed me a letter which I had to deliver, and I knew from the look in his eyes that the piece of paper I was holding would put someone to death. He looked so sad, so ashamed, like he truly hated bloodshed. I wondered how he got into this life -- if it was left to him by his father, or perhaps he won it in war, and only later realized the toll it would take on him. 

Brazos always sat in his great wooden chair, holding a cup of dark liquid which he never even sipped. Sometimes he would glance toward the great domed observatory ceiling and say things like: “Look at the clouds. They turn red from the sunset. Have you ever noticed how the red sunset always follows suffering? When a city burns, the sky reflects its blood.”

I originally never thought much of his poetic deliverances, but much later I realized he meant them as advice. That was just his way of saying ‘When crimes are committed, someone will always know.’ No matter how hard you try to cover your tracks, people will always see the red sky.

One evening, Lord Brazos handed me several letters to dispatch throughout the fortress. I made good time, and returned quickly. He complimented my work, saying, “You are adept, boy. If you play your cards right, it could get you far.”

I wasn’t sure how to take this either, though it made me more aware of my place in the world. And the more I thought of my place, the more I wanted to outlive it.

I reflected on my class and status and I wondered what it would take to become important like the lords of the houses. And, I vowed to work harder and someday become worthy of that title.

***

Two years I spent in his care, working as his apprentice, before I met the other eight lords. Each decade there was a meeting of Lords from all of the sectors. The capital housed a festival at the beginning of each autumn, and the commotion of the festivities perfectly concealed the arrival of the lords. 

At the start of the summer, preparations for the journey and meeting began. The fortress was bustling with people in the service of the house. The Ten Years Meeting was both anticipated and feared, as peaceful negotiations often deteriorated quickly. 

However, there were a few issues. Each Lord brought his or her heir to deal in the conference. Sadly, Lord Brazos had no sons or daughters. It was during the months before the meeting that he called me before him once again.

“William, you are young,” he said. “You are strong, able, and passionate. You remind me of myself as a boy.”

I bowed my head. “I thank you, my lord.”

“Ten years ago, I attended this meeting with my father. I would like you to attend it as well, but it is up to you. If you do not wish this life, I can do nothing but ask your good wishes.” He paused. “People in my position rarely last long. If, ten years from now, you travel there again, it will be without me.”

He was giving me the opportunity to become what I had always wanted, but he was also warning me. Even in a time of peace, merely holding such a position of power was a death sentence. A slow, painful, and unpredictable death sentence.

“My lord, I would like to join you.”

***

The capital was the only neutral ground in the country. The king kept a force of guards in the city to keep people in line, and they would certainly arrest any rogue lord, given the chance. However, it was still much safer to meet there than to venture into any other lord’s territory to negotiate. The lords of the outer sectors were granted safe passage through the inner lands to reach the capital, but if they were to stray from the path, the treaty would be void. 

From the House of Brazos, it was a two day trip by horseback to the city. We arrived several days in advance of the negotiations. I had never been to the capital before. It was huge, and there were so many people that I nearly lost myself in the crowds more than once. 

We stayed at a small inn in the outskirts of the city, where there was room to keep our horses, two separate rooms to sleep in, and a good selection of ales. 

I was nervous, yet eager for the meeting, and I could not but hope that all my training and preparation had paid off. It was not rare for lords to pass their titles on to someone outside of their family, though it was never someone as low born as me. 

I had learned to hold myself with poise and intimidate others with nothing but a glance. I had learned to articulate my speech and to read and write as well as any educated folk. 

I was still terrified.

The time for the conference came on the first day of the festival. All of the merchants and their buyers arrived within the previous week, as well as the lords. Lord Brazos and I maneuvered through the crowded streets and alleys until we reached a large house. 

A tall woman met us at the door and lead the way into an enormous circular room. The ceiling was lower than I was used to at the House, although it loomed several feet over our heads. The room was well lit by tall windows and torches, but still gave off an unwelcoming energy. 

Nine tall chairs lined the walls. Three were already occupied. Lord Brazos handed a folded paper to the woman who welcomed us and strode toward the chair furthest from the door. I followed and stood behind his chair a little to the right. 

I stole a glance around the room, hoping to identify the other lords. Two women and a man sat in the chairs, with young heirs beside them. I assumed that the women were Lady George and Lady Avrett, as they were the only female Lords I had heard of. 

I briefly wondered who owned the building which we met in. Very few people in the central city owed allegiance to any Lords, and even fewer were neutral enough to house a conference as essential as this. I also speculated about the length of the meeting. The sun had only just risen, but so many lords had yet to arrive that, arrivals and introductions aside, I doubted we would begin negotiations until midday. Of course, I knew better than to ask any such questions in the present company.

We held silence for another several minutes before two more lords entered the hall. They had similar faces and were identical in height and posture. One had slightly longer hair and wore a long light blue robe. A young boy of about ten or eleven years followed him closely. The other lord wore a long black robe and was followed by a tall, beady eyed girl. She looked only a few years older than me, and wore tight black leather armor with a riding cape. 

I knew these men to be the Lords of Ellsworth. They were the powerful brothers who ruled over a massive state which many referred to as ‘the brothers’ kingdom.’ Lord Ellsworth of the River, often simply called Lord River, controlled the southern portion of the state and was in constant conflict with the House of Lady Avrett whose sector bordered the opposite shore of the river.

Lord Ellsworth of the Mountain controlled the north of the state. He was one of the most feared Lords in the country. He was ruthless and bloody, and no one who trifled with him came out well. He once attacked the House of Roy, nearly ruined their family and reputation, and claimed more than half of their land for his own. 

The two lords sat next to each other. Lord River took the seat on my right, and his brother on his far side. 

The next lord to enter was a young boy, not much older than me, and his secondary looked no older than eight. After them, a tall, balding man with a white beard entered with a strong-looking blonde woman. There was only one chair left to be filled.

Nearly another hour passed in silence before the last lord arrived. He came alone, wearing all black velvet except for the gold embroidery on his sleeve cuffs. His face was thin and bony, with a prominent nose and deeply set eyes. They were of the lightest blue, almost white in color, and contrasted harshly with his black hair and clothing. He entered quietly and crossed the room in large strides to take the chair on the left of Lord Brazos.

Suddenly, the woman who had been waiting by the door stepped inside and shut it loudly behind her. “Welcome, my lords, to the Ten Years Meeting.”

For the first time since we had entered, there was a shuffle from around the room. Everyone relaxed and changed his or her posture slightly, still composed, but less guarded than before. 

“Now,” the woman began again. “Lord Roy and his heiress, Rosamund Aron.” She bowed to the white haired man who sat nearest to the door.

Next, she moved to the woman in the chair to his left. “Lord George and her heir, Jonathan Bailey.” She bowed again and continued to travel around the circle. “Lord Ellsworth of the Mountain, his heiress, Lord Ellsworth of the River and his heir.”

She then bowed before us. “Lord Brazos and heir, William Wolf.” 

I stood a little straighter at this. Everyone in the room seemed to look me over, judging me. My brown hair and hazel eyes were nothing like Lord Brazos’ appearance, and of course they would know we were not related by blood, but I still felt needlessly nervous. However, the lords stayed silent and the woman moved on.

“Lord Moon and…” She hesitated at the man sitting alone. “He has no heir.”

A murmur went up among the lords. It was unheard of to attend the meeting without a secondary member. Lord Moon himself looked solemnly on until the whispers died down and the woman turned to introduce the others.

Next came Lord Shiba, the young boy, Lord Carrion, and lastly Lord Avrett. The woman then stepped back and leaned against the door. Everyone seemed unsure of what to expect next, so she announced, “Begin the negotiations.”

The room broke into chatter and conversation, discussing land and leadership issues. For the next few hours, I stood in the midst of their arguments, saying nothing, but hearing everything. No one mentioned the issue of Lord Moon: that he had no heir. However, many of the company looked concerned, even suspicious, when they spoke of his land and control. 

Throughout the meeting, I noticed things. I gathered information, should I ever need it for some reason. I tried to decipher each lord’s strengths and weaknesses. 

Lord Shiba was one of the most interesting to me. He was undoubtedly the youngest lord, though easily the most articulate with his words. I knew that his state was the smallest of all, but it was strategically located. It bordered a good portion of the capital, and it was also adjacent to the states of Brazos, Moon, Carrion, Avrett and Ellsworth. Most importantly, the river ran straight through the middle.

I knew that the house of Shiba had been weakened since the death of their leader, the father of the new lord. Though he had been ill for a long time before his passing, he held the state well. He had only two children, both very young, but his fourteen year old heir took on the title of Lord. 

Now there was no one to teach the young boy the ways of the world. He had to learn all by himself how to run a state, an army, how to negotiate and control others. I pitied him in a way. 

All of the other lords saw this as an opportunity. They bargained and persuaded him to give up land and resources, but he held his ground. I wondered how long he would last. 

***

After the meeting was finished, I was allowed to attend the festival. It was already nearing sunset, but the crowded streets were well lit. I wandered through the stands where craftsmen sold their wares and bakers displayed intricate pastries. I bought a thin gold ring to wear on my finger, because Lord Brazos wore a ring as well. It made me feel more powerful. 

We began heading back to the inn after exploring the city thoroughly. Lord Brazos had given me a good amount of money for whatever I wanted in the capital, and though I had bought only a few things I was nearly out. 

Walking through the streets, there were so many people that I could hardly pick out any one person in particular. However, I was certain we were being followed. There was always a mysterious movement behind us which I couldn’t quite see, except from the corner of my eye. I knew Lord Brazos could see it as well, as he often changed direction unexpectedly. 

Eventually we arrived at the inn, and wordlessly agreed to lie in wait. 

Soon after we concealed ourselves behind the corner of the building, a boy with long black hair revealed himself to us. He walked quietly and looked around before every step. 

Lord Brazos reached out and pulled him into the shadows. He struck the boy in the chest, so hard I could hear a gasp leave his lips, and pinned him to the wall. The boy looked utterly panicked. His eyes went wide and he struggled for a few moments before Lord Brazos slammed him against the wall again and he froze up.

“You were following us.” Lord Brazos had a fury in his eyes which I had rarely ever seen. “What are you, boy? A spy?”

“I- Ah…” The boy gasped. 

“What is your name?” I interjected before Lord Brazos could frighten him any more.

“I… It’s… What, Sir?”

“What? It’s ‘What?’” Lord Brazos gritted his teeth before he seemed to collect himself slightly. He still held the boy by the front of his shirt, but his face was calm. “Who are you?”

The boy didn’t answer. 

“Who do you serve?”

“I serve only his majesty, King Florence,” he replied.

Lord Brazos laughed. “The king? Do you know nothing of this country? The king has hardly been seen in years. You are either loyal to a lord or you serve only yourself.”

“I’m only a farm boy, sir. I’m only here for the festival.”

“Why would you follow us then?” 

The boy paused again. “I never meant to sir. I was just going this way…”

“You are a bloody liar!” Lord Brazos shouted at him.

I stood up straighter and stepped forward. Lord Brazos let go of the boy, and as he regained his footing I realized he was several inches shorter than me. His black hair was silky and straight and fell past his shoulders. His eyes were a cold blue, like the color of moonlight on a lake. 

“Now,” I began. “What is your name?”

“Oliver, sir.”

I sighed. “Alright. Oliver. Why were you following us? Don’t try to lie to me.”

“I was looking…” He seemed to shrink away as he spoke. “Looking for Lord Shiba.”

I inhaled sharply. As I had predicted, Lord Shiba was in a coveted position, and likely quite at risk. This Oliver, whoever he was, evidently knew of the Ten Years Meeting, and probably knew who we were as well. “Lord Shiba is gone,” I told him. “He returned home immediately after the meeting.”

 

Lord Brazos turned around. “William,” he said. “I leave this to you. Do as you see fit. Keep him, if you want. We’ll need a new servant soon.”

And with that, he left me alone in the street with the mysterious young boy. 

Without Lord Brazos there, the boy looked much more confident. He looked stronger, older, perhaps more willing to fight should the need arise. 

I was at a loss for words. I knew that Lord Brazos had left me to handle this because he trusted me to make a good decision, and also wanted me to practice having power over others. That was what it would take to become a lord.

“Your name is William?” he began.

“Yes,” I answered. “But you will call me sir.”

Oliver scrunched up his nose. “Sorry, sir.”

“How old are you, Oliver?”

“Sixteen.”

“I don’t believe you’re ‘only a farm boy’ Oliver. A farm boy would naturally speak with honorifics to someone like me. I would know; I was a farm boy. So, I’m inclined to believe you are not what you say. Are you noble? Or, are you from one of the Houses?”

He looked at me with a blank face. “I know none of these things, sir. I was only doing as I was told. I met a man who gave me money to find the Lord Shiba, so that is what I meant to do. I meant no harm, sir.” He continued, “I am just a poor boy, sir. I ran away from my family and I have nowhere to go.”

I stopped to think for a moment. I could not set him free, now that he had seen us. I could not kill him, as it was not in my nature. If, as Lord Brazos suggested, I took him as a servant, I would have to treat him as such. It would fall on me to watch over a boy who was older than me, care for him, and train him. And yet, it seemed the best option I had.

“If I take you with me, will you run away in the night?” I asked. 

“No, sir. I will do what you say. Please do not hurt me, sir.”

“I won’t.”

***

From that day forth, he was my servant. He was most loyal, always respectful, and did everything I said. I never believed that he was a farm boy, as he could read and write as well as me, perhaps better, but I forgave his secrecy. He could ride even the wildest horse, climb the tallest tree. Oliver could do anything. He was fearless.

For this, he was often at work throughout the fortress. Though he was my servant, Lord Brazos often utilized his skills, as well as many other people in the house. Some days, I felt jealousy at this. He was my servant, my charge, and yet I could not find him whenever he was off at work for someone else.

Eventually, I grew close to him. I cared for him. Sometimes it frightened me.

One night, I could not sleep. I left my rooms and headed for the stables. Oliver must have heard me, as he emerged from his small room adjacent to mine.

“Where are you going, sir?” he asked.

I froze, startled. “I was going to go for a midnight ride.”

He smiled at this. “Do you mind if I come?”

“Not at all.”

“Ok,” he said. He ran his fingers through his long hair and began to follow me.

We wandered outside, through the courtyard, and traveled down the grassy slope to the stables. We saddled our favorite horses, but Oliver was faster than me. By the time I mounted my horse, he was already prancing outside on his shining black stallion. It made me grin, just a little. He would always be better than me.

We rode to the top of the hill, side by side, and I couldn’t help admiring the huge castle before us. It was all gray, shining in the light of a full moon. I had only lived there for three years, but it felt like a lifetime. It felt like my home.

Oliver was looking at me when I turned back. “Where do you want to go?” he said softly.

“The lake,” I answered. “It’s beautiful at night.”

We set out over the vast expanse of open plains. Oliver galloped ahead of me, as his horse was much faster. His hair flowed behind him in the wind just like his horse’s mane. He looked so natural at it all.

Occasionally, he slowed to a trot to let me catch up, and he laughed as I reached him, panting with the effort. His laugh was so high and clear; he sounded so happy.

I wanted him to be happy.

The lake was only a mile or two from the fortress. We dismounted our horses and tethered them to a tree a ways from the water. Oliver ran to the shore and gazed at the cool dark water. He seemed so eager, even when he had been here a thousand times. He smiled like everything was new.

“How often do you do this, sir?” he asked.

I was so caught up in looking at his smile that I barely heard him. “Do… What?”

“Come here at night.”

“Oh,” I breathed. “Whenever I want to. Usually when the moon is full.”

He chuckled again and kicked his boots off before dipping his toes in the cold water. “Come on,” he said. 

I looked on in amazement. “Is it not freezing?”  
“Not so much. It’s already spring.” He reached his hand out to beckon me.

I relented, removing my riding boots and cape to step into the lake. “No. This is too cold. Too cold!” I squeaked. 

Oliver burst out laughing as I retreated back to dry land. “If you don’t want to walk, I can carry you,” he offered.

“Carry me to where? There’s no point in entering the lake at all in my opinion.”

“Carry you into the lake and drop you there, sir,” he mocked, splashing a bit of water towards me. 

“Oliver, your insolence baffles me. I could have you punished, you know.”

“But you wouldn’t.”

I was taken aback. “Why, you… I am your lord!”

He waded back to the shore. “You are, sir.” He looked up at me, a dangerous smirk in his eyes.

“Stop that! You will respect me!” I insisted.

“Ok.” His face softened. He walked over to a patch of grass and sat down. “Will you sit with me, sir?”

I followed and tentatively sat beside him. The grass was soft and slightly damp, but I barely noticed. Oliver had his head thrown back towards the sky. His smile was so kind, so perfect, yet so mysterious.

“The stars are beautiful,” he said. “And the moon. It’s so bright.”

I hummed in agreement. I couldn’t quite find words to answer. Seeing him there, I was reminded again of the first time I saw him. Even then I thought his eyes were like moonlight. 

“I love you, my Lord.” He was looking at me again.

“Of course. Shouldn’t everyone love and respect their superiors?” I joked.

Oliver chuckled at this. Then he looked back at the stars and his face became more serious. He leaned to the side and rested his head on my shoulder. 

“I love you, William.”

My heartbeat sped up. Suddenly, my whole body felt tense. For some reason, I was terrified. 

He had never said my name like that. In fact, I had only heard him call me William once. But that was a question. Just a kind of matter of fact wondering, perhaps a careless afterthought. This was different. This was tender. He said it in a voice that made my skin tingle and I couldn’t decide if I should run away or hold him closer than ever.

I could feel his breath against my neck, and when I looked at him again, his eyes were closed. 

I knew I was in love with him. I knew in that moment because it hurt so much and everything made sense and when he smiled it made me want to cry.

My throat was too dry to speak. I wanted to tell him more than anything, but I could not even whisper. I just watched him.

All I could hear were the sounds of crickets, the lake water lapping at the shore, and Oliver’s breathing. I felt safe there, alone with him and the stars.

I jolted awake a few hours later, realizing I had dozed off. It was still dark, though the moon was almost at the horizon. I was splayed out on my back on the grassy hill. Oliver had curled up against me, his head resting on my chest. It occured to me that if we did not return home by dawn, someone would certainly become worried. I almost roused him, but I didn’t have the heart to jostle the boy. I just wrapped my arms around him and promised myself I would wake him when the time came.

A few minutes passed before he breathed against my collarbone. “We should go back.”

I startled, not knowing he was awake. “I know,” I said.

I only realized how warm he was when he separated himself from me. The chill of early morning immediately struck my body. I almost wanted to call him back, but I held my tongue and stood up to get my cloak and boots. 

Our horses were like statues, standing where we left them. Oliver did not speak a single word as we set off towards the castle. He stayed by my side this time, not inclined to gallop ahead. I wanted to talk to him, but I could think of nothing to say. 

When we arrived home, Oliver unsaddled and groomed his horse before disappearing. I knew he had duties to attend to; I just wished I could know where he had gone. 

***

The next night, I was unable to sleep again. I heard echoes in the hallways and I wondered if Oliver was awake. I lay in my chamber, tossing and turning. I could see traces of moonlight creeping through the high windows. I arose, and as I was dressing, there was a knock on my door. 

Oliver stood outside in a dark cloak. “Come with me,” he whispered.

I grinned. We raced outside together and travelled to the lake just as the night before. I slid off my horse and tethered her to a tree. “Oliver,” I called to him as he did the same. “Follow me.”

I led him around the side of the lake where tall cottonwoods bordered the water. One of the gnarled old trees had perfect footholds, so it was easy to climb. The top branches intersect with those of the wider trees around it, making for a comfortable seat. 

I pulled myself onto the lowest branch and waited for Oliver. He climbed up easily, then stood on the branch as I maneuvered up the tree. He followed, and once we had both taken our seats at the top, he looked out at the clear sky. 

“It’s beautiful up here, sir,” he whispered. “Thank you for bringing me, sir.”

“Call me William again.” I blurted. I could not help it. After thinking all day about his words, I would do anything to hear them again.

Oliver looked startled, but he said nothing. The cold night air stilled as my words hung between us. 

I felt scared, perhaps embarrassed, but I was not sure why. As heir to a lord, I could ask anything I wanted of people. I could command them to abandon such formalities in my presence, though that rarely happened. I could ask someone to call me William, and whoever he was, he would follow my orders to his last of life. 

This felt different. This was not an order - it was a request, a passionate need driven by emotions I couldn’t name. I felt so vulnerable, like I was baring my raw soul to him. 

But that was what I wanted.

I looked towards him. His face was flushed, but he was staring towards the ground with wide eyes. I waited.

“William,” he whispered. It was barely audible, but it made my heart skip. Oliver shifted his weight on the tree branch and leaned against me. I could feel his warm breath against my cheek as he whispered again, close to my ear. His voice was like liquid honey moonlight and I could barely breathe anymore. Then I felt his lips against my skin. First, on my jaw, then, as I leaned into him, my cheek, and my lips. I kissed him, too. I kissed him until I was afraid I would dissolve entirely. 

Then, I just leaned against him, revelling in his warmth. I admired how his shining black hair fell over his shoulders, and how his eyes in the light of the moon and stars seemed to take on a glow of their own. 

Neither of us moved for what seemed like an hour. I could feel my eyelids growing heavy. Because I did not wish to fall out of the tree, I suggested that we ought to climb down and return home. 

We did exactly that. After we reached the castle, we were about to retire to our respective rooms when he kissed me again. Softly, just a little, but I wanted to hold on longer and longer. More and more I found myself wishing that we could climb trees and lay on grassy hills every night. I hoped we would have forever.

 

***

The next night came rain. Over the course of the day, the clouds crept in from the mountains to the north and set their deluge upon the fortress. By sunset, it had grown from a drizzle to a downpour, thrashing the castle in waves and torrents.

It was the spring rains. They began each year when the trees were still sprouting buds, and sometimes the sky was gray for days on end. After awhile, the stone walls and roofs of Brazos’ house gave into the floods and allowed pools of water to gather around the halls. Many sections of the castle smelled damp and musty during the spring. Books and fragile materials had to be relocated in order to keep them dry. 

I loved the rain. I loved the sounds it made, the thunder and lightning, the smell of the dry earth fresh with rain. I loved the feeling of it on my skin and in my heart. But, I did not love it leaking into my room, warping and disfiguring my belongings with the water. 

That night, I moved my small table and chair to the dryest corner of the room. I stashed my most valuable items and papers in a dry, tightly sealed box. I reminded myself that I needed to give some important documents to Lord Brazos in the morning. If they got wet, I had no wish to rewrite several pages of confidential reports.

I was not particularly surprised at the arrival of the rain, but part of me felt disappointed that I could not return to the lake anytime soon. 

I sat at my table with a notebook, writing and sketching by the light of a lantern. Occasional claps of thunder made me jump, but I kept writing into the night. I probably would have fallen asleep with my head in my inkpot, had I not heard a knocking at the door.

Oliver stood outside, slightly damp and dishevelled. “I was helping to keep the rain out of the library. When I came back, my room was flooded.” He paused for a few moments, opening and closing his mouth. “Can… Can I sleep in here?” he asked timidly.

I smiled. “I can’t promise it will be very dry in here either, but yes. You can.” 

I returned to my desk to move my writing materials into my rain proof box. I hadn’t gotten to finish my work, but it was late. I vowed to continue in the morning.

“What are you doing?” Oliver inquired. 

“Writing.”

“Of what?”

“Goings on.” I gathered my papers together. 

Oliver reached out to grab a sheet from my hands. He danced out of my reach as I gasped indignantly. He began reading over the page. “Is this about me?!”

“Give it to me.”

“You were writing about me?” he laughed in awe.

“It’s a report. I was writing about recent events, whether or not they involved you. This is for Lord Brazos.”

“Alright. Are they confidential documents? You know, I can keep a secret.” He smiled shyly. “I write about you sometimes, too.”

“Oliver, I never asked… But, how does a ‘farm boy’ such as you learn to read and write so well?”

His face fell momentarily. “Oh. Well, my mother taught me. She was very well raised, and yet she married my father. I guess she always wanted me to be a better man than him.” He paused for a few seconds. “She died, though. When I was ten.”

“I’m sorry.” I realized I had no idea how to console him, as I had not dealt with much grief. “Can I ask… How did she die?”

“I don’t know. My father told me she was sick.” He shook his head. “She wasn’t sick. She was scared something would happen to her. She just… disappeared. I never learned the entire story.”

Oliver’s life was so secretive. So many things he told me were dangerous, terrifying, and mysterious, but he said them as though they were no more than trifles in the time of his youth. However, I had never heard him talk of his family like this. He had never before even mentioned his mother, but he spoke of her with love, regret, and even anger. I realized how little I knew him at all.

“Will you tell me more about your family someday, Oliver?” I chose my words as carefully as I could.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a grimace. “I think we should go to sleep now.”

I relented, not wanting to push him too far, and stashed the remaining papers in my box. 

Luckily, my bed was still dry. Oliver curled up on one side, taking up as little room as he could. I slid under the blankets next to him and placed my hand on his back. He turned to face me, then moved closer so I could hold him. 

I kissed his forehead and he hummed quietly. He looked at me with nothing but happiness in his eyes.

“You have piercings in your ear,” he noted. 

I usually forgot about the small metal rings. They didn’t have any special meaning, they didn’t hinder my daily activities, and they were only really noticeable in a certain light. “Yes. I got them after I came to work for Lord Brazos.”

Oliver reached his hand up to touch my earlobe. “They’re so pretty. I think… I want some. Someday.”

I could tell he was struggling to stay awake. It only took a few moments for his eyelids to flutter shut. He buried his face in the collar of my shirt.

***

When morning came, the rain had not let up. I was decidedly cold, and I soon realized Oliver had left. It was still early; though sunlight still managed to peek through the thick clouds. I arose, trying not to step in the puddles which had accumulated around the room. 

I dressed in my dryest clothes and stayed in my room to write for several hours.

Lord Brazos called upon me around midday. When I entered his room, he was not sitting in his large wooden chair, but standing, and pacing about the room. His brows were furrowed and his face had a certain dark intensity.

“My Lord?” I began. “Is something the matter, sir?”

He paused in his walking and hummed under his breath. He held out his hand with a letter, which I took carefully and unfolded. 

I began to read aloud. 

“My Lord Brazos, I regret to inform you that the young Lord Shiba is dead. It seems he was assassinated by someone outside his house. His brother and heir to the House of Shiba is too ill to keep his house. There is war in the south. With the House of Shiba compromised, the Houses of Carrion and Avrett are in conflict. Lord Moon still has no known heir. I cannot say what will come from this, but it will not be good. Always your humble servant, C. M.”

I set the letter on his table. “Sir, who is this letter from?”

“An informant from the capital. MacArthur,” he said. 

“There has not been a true war since the invasion of Northern Roy. Has there, sir?”

“No.” He turned away from me and began his pacing once again. “Without the Lord Shiba, there is valuable land south of the capital without a leader. Lord George and Lord Roy have no claim to this land, but I would hardly be surprised if the Brother’s Kingdom attacked it for greater access to the river. Lord Moon seems to be in a dangerous position; if he dies, his house will fall. However, he could have plotted this from the start, deliberately showing weakness to incite conflict and later display an heir of unforeseen power.”

I was startled by his thoughts on the matter. He had evidently explored every possible outcome. “My lord… What is your house to do?”

He knew this question was coming. I heard him sigh, though his back was still towards me. “We will not fight… Until they come to us. They will, I suspect, within the year. The conflict is sure to grow, and, if as I suspect, Lord Moon has more stability than he would let us believe, he will likely rekindle old land disputes in the south.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“I will need you to write a letter to MacArthur. Tell no one else of this.”

“Of course, my lord,” I excused myself quickly and returned to my room.

Wars between the houses were secretive and lawless. There was no honour in charging onto the battlefield with swords held high. War, for us, was made up of raids and massacres in the night. 

The chair of a lord was not a high, untouchable throne. Spies were common in the world of rogues empires like ours, and the assassination of a young Lord like Shiba was hardly unexpected. In an attack, a lord would be left without protection. Sometimes, no one would be spared - servants, soldiers, relations, all brutally slaughtered or missing.

Word never reached the capital of these losses, so we were left alone by the King’s government. We were left alone to mourn our own losses while different territories passed into new hands every decade. This was the life I had chosen.


End file.
